


It's not for you or me, it's for us.

by tillyenna



Series: NYR Punishment verse [6]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: D/s, M/M, Public Humiliation, Punishment, Spanking, non sexual punishment, non sexual spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:01:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23018233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillyenna/pseuds/tillyenna
Summary: Ryan got so many penalties in the first two periods of the game that Coach Quinn refused to let him on the ice for the third.In an interview the next day after practice Quinny confirmed he wasn't mad at Stromer anymore because 'we kissed and made up' and well, if that isn't a fic in, I don't know what is.
Relationships: Henrik Lundqvist/Igor Shesterkin, Henrik Lundqvist/Marc Staal, Henrik Lundqvist/Ryan Strome
Series: NYR Punishment verse [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654312
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	It's not for you or me, it's for us.

Henke is weary coming off the pitch, first game in damn near a month, and it had to go like that. He doesn’t begrudge Igor his starts – not anymore, not when he is so damn proud of him, but after a month, he didn’t have the stamina for that game, and even though he played his hardest, they still lost, which means that David will start Georgie for the next one – and that he does, absolutely, 100% begrudge.

It’s not that he’d planned to win the game, you can’t plan for that, but he’d wanted to win, go home, snuggle into bed with his boy and the next morning start his birthday off the right way, preferably with his dick in Igor’s mouth. But no, the rest of his team had other plans – and it’s not that he couldn’t have changed the result of the game single-handedly, on his best day perhaps he would have, but after a month’s break – there was no way he could.

The locker room is quiet, not tense, just defeated, Stromer is noticeably absent – but Henrik knows exactly where he’ll be – with David. He divulges himself of his pads quickly and efficiently, before stripping out of his under armour and heading towards the showers. He lets himself take as long as he wants in the showers, usually he’s quick, but he feels the need for the extra time to relax. He’s glad he does, when Marc slides into his cubicle behind him, arms sliding around his waist, beard tickling his neck as Marc presses a kiss to his shoulder.

“Sorry Boss,” Staal says quietly

Henrik shrugs, yes he’s pissed off, but he and Marc have been through too much together for him to take it out unreasonably. He does however let Marc run his hands across his shoulders, massaging him gently, lets him work the shampoo through his hair. By the time they’ve finished, they’ve both been in the shower indulgently long, and Marc presses another apologetic kiss to his skin. “Quinny’s waiting for you with Stromer.”

Henrik nods – he was, of course, expecting this. Henrik disciplines them, usually to his own specifications, but occasionally, when one of the boys upsets their head coach, he will step in and advise. Quinn is also a Dom, but he never scenes with any of his players – as far as Henrik knows he doesn’t ever scene with men, but on days like today, he needs to see them punished as much as Henke does.

When he steps out of the shower area, Stromer is knelt by his stall, Quinn is leaning against the far wall, close by the door – they all know that the press won’t be allowed in until he says they are. His shirt is dishevelled, the way it is always after a game, his tie has been removed and shoved, balled up, into his pocket, his shirt sleeves rolled up as his arms are folded across his chest. Henke never fails to feel sorry for David’s wardrobe.

As he gets close to his stall, he presses a soft hand to the back of Ryan’s neck. He’s not ready for him yet, but he lets the younger man know that he’s aware why he’s there, that Henrik is not ignoring him. He pulls on his slacks before he does anything else – he doesn’t like doing this in any less clothing, it’s not about him being vulnerable. That being said, he never puts any of the rest of his clothes on, because unlike his coach, he cares about his shirts. Eventually, he sits down, and reaches down cupping Ryan’s chin with his hand.

“Ten with my hand or five with the stick?”

Ryan presses his forehead into Henrik’s knee, “Hand please Hank.” He says quietly.

Henrik can’t help but look over to Quinn, not for his approval, but he’s curious about his opinion.

Quinny looks over at them, considering, rubs his chin with one hand, and then shakes his head softly. He leans down and whispers something in Staal’s ear. Henrik watches the amused smile tug at the corners of Marc’s mouth – he’s nowhere near as much of a sadist as Henke is, but isn’t to say he has a quiet mean streak at times. He reaches down and pulls one of his gloves out of his bag, throwing it over to Henrik.

Henke nods, and pulls the glove onto his hand, flexing slightly to feel it, wriggle his fingers into place, before he reaches down with the other hand and threads his fingers through Strome’s short hair. “Up.” He instructs, “Pants off, over my lap.” Not all his boys need the humiliation of being put over his knee like a child – Ryan however is one of the ones that does.

When he’s naked from the waist down, Henrik reaches up and pulls him over until his bent over the netminder’s knee.

“Who do we think deserves your apologies today?” He asks, rubbing his gloved hand over the naked skin of Ryan’s buttocks.

“Coach.” Ryan answers tersely, “Whole team. You.”

Henrik leans forward until he’s practically touching Ryan, “It’s ok.” He says softly, too quiet for anyone else to hear, “I’ll take it all away.”

Ryan nods once, and then, barely audible, utters one word. “Please.”

It’s hard to get the striking power right with the glove – Henrik prefers using his bare hand, only opting for the glove if he’s going to be spanking someone for long enough to hurt his own hand – but this isn’t just about him. That being said, he goes softer on the first one, softer than he would for most of the boys, but Strome’s always been more about humiliation than the pain itself.

“One, sorry coach.” Ryan says quietly. He knows the drill, this isn’t his first team punishment, and he’s witnessed more than his fair share, just like his teammates are sat around watching him right now.

The second hit is harder, Henke’s having to read how hard to hit from Ryan’s feedback, and that hit elicits a squawk of protest, followed by. “Two, sorry coach.”

The third and fourth hits, are harder again, drawing whimpers from Ryan before he apologises. Henrik leans in once again, “You’re doing well,” he says softly, “Apologise to the team now.” He stroke the sore, pink skin of Strome’s backside as he speaks – relishing in the knowledge that the rough feel of the glove against the sensitive skin will be torturous.

“Five, sorry team.” Ryan chokes out, and then “Six, sorry team,” not even giving him time to breathe between the two hits.

Hits seven and eight are hard enough that they elicit yelps of pain from Ryan. Henrik knows Strome doesn’t actually need the pain in order to feel punished, but it’s not just about Ryan feeling the absolution that punishment brings, it’s about the team as well, getting rid of any resentment from his behaviour during the game.

“Nearly done now,” Henrik whispers to him, he has his off hand pressing into the back of Ryan’s neck.

“Nine, sorry Hank.” Ryan’s voice cracks slightly, and he’s grateful that Henrik goes softer on him than some of the others. “Ten, sorry Hank.”

Henrik pulls him up with a rough hand on his hair, “Put your pants back on.” He says, his manner is rough, but his voice is soft, and there’s no anger or malice in it.

Ryan does as he’s instructed, whimpering as he pulls his briefs over the tender skin of his buttocks. He can’t help but look to Henrik for his instructions when he’s dressed again.

“Go and apologise to Quinny,” Henrik taps his sore butt just once, softly, “Properly too.”

Ryan crosses the room, standing in front of his coach – there are no rules to how to apologise, no expectations, you’re just expected to do what feels right. He pauses for a moment, and then, no hint of nerves, presses a soft chaste kiss to Quinn’s lips. “I’m sorry coach.” He says softly.

At that, Quinny’s lips quirk up into a little smile, he slides a hand through Ryan’s hair and presses into him, kissing him once, hard, powerful, and with just a hint of tongue, before pressing their foreheads together. “Totally forgiven Stromer.”

By the time Ryan’s finished breathing in forgiveness from his coach, Henrik is dressed and links their hands together. “Home with me now Strome, tell the Mrs.”

Ryan nods, grabbing his phone out to fire off the text – that she’ll probably be expecting having watched the game at home. “Thank you Hank.” He looks up at the older man, a tired smile on his face.

“Hey,” Henke slings an arm around his shoulders, feeling the tension completely dissipate from his shoulders, “Not just for you eh?” He presses a kiss to Ryan’s temple – perhaps this wasn’t the way he’d planned to spend the night before his birthday, but he can spend his forties doing what he wants – right now, his life is about his team.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, this fits in with my wider rangers verse which is igor/henke centric - hence why there are allusions to that pairing in this fic. I promise it's coming. Shorter plot bunnies just keep attacking me.
> 
> Also Quinny is hawt. Like super hawt.


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